Read Online Books/Novels:
Running into Love (Fluke My Life #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
Fawn Reed has kissed one too many toads and has finally decided that Prince Charming doesn’t exist. After countless mishaps, mistakes, and unmitigated disasters on the dating scene, she’s decided to give up and move on with her life…solo.
Everything changes, however, after Fawn runs into Levi Fremont, a homicide detective new to New York City.
Dedication to the job has rendered Levi’s love life nonexistent—until he moves in next door to the free-spirited Fawn. After a series of comedic run-ins push them together, will they finally give in to the inevitable and realize—maybe—they are perfect for each other?
|Books in Series:|
|Books by Author:|
Lifting my eyes off the pavement below my feet, I frown when I see a woman running toward me with her eyes closed and her hands in the air, waving from side to side. Jesus, what the fuck is she doing? I don’t even have a chance to get out of her way, and before I can prepare, she’s running into me at full speed and we’re both tumbling toward the ground. Attempting to keep my weight from crushing her, I try to spin us at the last second, but I only manage to turn us to our sides before we land and skid across the ground.
Groaning from the impact, I roll over and move to my knees, rising above the woman, and scan her from head to toe. She’s tiny, so much smaller than me that I know I could crush her without trying. I just hope I didn’t. “Babe.” I wait for her eyes to open, and when they do I’m stunned. She’s beautiful in an unusual sort of way that reminds me of a fairy. Her blonde hair is a mass of wild curls. Her face is soft; her nose, tiny; and her lips are a shape I wouldn’t mind studying more, but her eyes aren’t like any I have ever seen before. The color reminds me of an old beat-up green pickup truck I used to have—the green had faded and peeled away, leaving layers of silver and blue. I loved that truck. Feeling her eyes on me, I shake my head and force myself out of whatever spell she has me under. “Are you okay?” I ask her. Her eyes move to my lips, and she frowns. “Christ, do we need to get you to a doctor?” I question, watching as her hand lifts and her finger covers my lips, her brows pulling together. “Do you think you can move, or should I call an ambulance?”
“Are you talking to me?” At her question I frown, then move my eyes over her head and down her neck, and then I see the cord to her earphones. Realizing her music is still blasting and she can’t hear me, I move my hand to her neck to take hold of the cord, then let out a grunt as she hits me in the stomach and her knee comes up, barely missing my nuts.
“What the fuck?” I bark.
She starts to go wild, yelling, “Help! Fire!” at the top of her lungs, causing the people walking by to slow to see what’s happening.
“Jesus!” I finally get a grip on the cord and pull, which tugs the earphones out of her ears, and her body stills. “Are you crazy?” I grit out, and her eyes move over me, then to the cord in my hand.
“Oh shit. Oops!” she pants, covering her face with her hands. Oops? Is this chick for real?
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask, and she uncovers her face, moving her eyes to my abs as I sit back on my knees.
“Tinker Bell, can you get a fucking clue for a minute?” I snap, ready to wring her pretty little neck, and she pulls her eyes off my torso, then looks around, and her cheeks fill with color.
“Everything’s okay. Show’s over, folks.” While she sits up, she waves her hands out toward the crowd that has gathered around us; then she looks at me and points at my chest. “And, you, don’t call me Tinker Bell!”
“You’re bleeding,” I inform her as I stand, and her eyes drop to her knees, and her face scrunches up. I don’t want to think that she looks cute with her face like that, but I do.
“Gross.” She stands, not noticing the hand I’m holding out to help her to her feet. Stepping back, I open my mouth to again ask her what the fuck is wrong with her, but my mouth dries up as she rips her shirt off over her head, leaving herself in nothing but a sports bra. As my eyes scan over her tight little body, my cock twitches. Then I realize I’m not the only one checking her out; a couple of other men have stopped to stare. At that, my anger irrationally spikes.
“Are you kidding me? Put your shirt back on! What the hell is wrong with you?” I step close and pull my tee from my back pocket, where I’d shoved it at the start of my run. “Put this on,” I demand, holding the shirt out toward her, and she shakes her head.
“You seriously must be crazy. What the hell kind of woman runs with her eyes closed?” I ask, and her head starts to lift, but her gaze pauses on my abs before she lifts her eyes slowly to meet mine.